


The Only Thing That Matters

by blu_eyed_demon



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-09
Updated: 2012-03-09
Packaged: 2017-11-01 16:29:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/358923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blu_eyed_demon/pseuds/blu_eyed_demon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edmund's second experience in Narnia from his P.O.V as he grows closer to Prince Caspian</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Thing That Matters

**Author's Note:**

> Whilst the characters are not my own, this work is and I do not give permission for this work to be duplicated or posted anywhere else

“Aren’t you supposed to be with the High King, preparing for battle?” Caspian’s accented voice startles Edmund every time he speaks. He’s never heard an accent, or voice, quite like it. It sends a shiver down the King’s spine and a warm tingling feeling to his stomach. A feeling he remembers all too well.

It’s not until Caspian stops watching his sword being sharpened and turns to face him that Edmund realises he hasn’t answered the question, he’s just been staring.

“Why aren’t you?” He asks the Prince evenly, which he feels is an achievement considering the way his heart is beating like a galloping stallion.

Caspian looks around and although none of the workers preparing for the battle would openly eavesdrop on their sovereigns, many are Talking Beasts and their hearing is second to none. Caspian leads him out of the cavern and down one of the passageways, they take seat in a small alcove that’s more like a side room off of the main passage way. A disused room.

Edmund looked around, mostly to keep himself from staring. His mind wonders what Caspian’s answer could be that it requires such private surroundings. After a long silence it’s clear that perhaps Caspian’s not certain of the answer himself.

“My brother can be difficult to work with,” Edmund offers eventually in an attempt to begin conversation once more. “But he has Narnia’s best interests in his heart.”

“Many people will die tonight. Many more if we’re unsuccessful,” Caspian finally speaks.

“Unfortunately there’s no such thing as a war without casualties,” Edmund sighs with a heavy heart, his mind replaying moments from every battle and war he ever took part in during his reign. They had lived in The Golden Age of Narnia but such peace cannot be made without war, though legends chose to not focus on that.

“You sound like a world weary soldier instead of a young boy,” The Prince observes and Edmund turns his head to find Caspian studying him with intrigue.

“I’m not a boy,” Edmund is quick to reply as Caspian’s eyes burn into his soul. He has never spoken this truth aloud before as his siblings know it already and the people back in England would likely have him condemned to the mad house if he opened his mouth to them. 

“My first time in Narnia I grew up, body and mind, when I returned to the Other Place, England I mean, my body returned to the age it was when I first entered Narnia but my mind did not. I am still an adult, a soldier, a King trapped in the body of a school boy.” He falls silent, sensing he has disclosed too much to someone he hardly knows but then again that may well simply be a feeling motivated by the sensibilities and proprieties born of being British.

“Life must be hard for you in your England,” Caspian says with compassion but not pity or too much sympathy for which Edmund is utterly grateful. He does not wish for Caspian to feel sorry for him.

“It can be,” Edmund concedes before shrugging it off “Life must have been hard for you also, living in Miraz’s court.”

“It could be.”

A companionable silence falls as they each regard one another in a new light. After a long moment between them, Caspian embellishes on his reply.

“Even when my father was still alive...being the only living heir, I was guarded, I had no real friends but I did have...”

Edmund is, and was, no stranger to isolation. As a king he could never trust another without questioning their motives and in England he was isolated from his school fellows because he’s no longer a boy, he’s isolated from his adult peers because he looks like a boy. At least he always had his brother and sisters. “What did you have?”

“First I had my nurse who’d tell me stories of Old Narnia and then I had Doctor Cornelius,” Caspian pauses, clearly trying to decide whether or not to continue “As a child I used to play pretend, until Miraz put a stop to it. ‘Prince’s learn to fight, they do not daydream’”

“He sounds like a joyless man,” Edmund comments, the mildest insult he could possibly put to the Telmerine.

“He despises all mention of Old Narnia and, well, I used to pretend and imagine I was in your time with talking animals and you also, your majesty, I’d pretend we were going on adventures,” The admission actually makes the Prince’s cheeks flush as he breaks eye contact with Edmund “Forgive me, I should not have said.”

“I was your imaginary friend?” Edmund’s voice is full of wonder “But why not Peter?”

“A High King as a playmate? I wanted someone I could relate to, pretend I was friends with, not someone to behave superior and intimidate me.” And answer to Edmund’s first question as well as the most recent.

“Well,” He decides to bypass the accurate but insulting summation of his older brother. “You don’t need to imagine me anymore,” He murmurs and touches Caspian’s hand, just to illustrate his point. Caspian’s eyes dart down to where their skin is touching for the first time and somehow, though he didn’t think it possible, Edmund’s heart is beating faster. “And you don’t have to pretend you have my friendship, you have it already.”

“Oh, Your Majesty, ple-”

“Don’t call me that, Caspian,” Edmund corrects quickly. He doesn’t like it because it suggests Caspian is in some way inferior to him.

“My apologies, King Edmund.” Caspian murmurs humbly, dipping his head in respect. Edmund removes his hand from Caspian’s and takes his chin between thumb and forefinger, guiding the prince to meet his eyes. Edmund certainly feels like the elder, which he truly is, in this moment.

“Caspian, please, call me Ed.” He insists “We are equals.”

“Then Ed, please, do not take this as an insult,” Caspian murmurs, leaning in towards Edmund and the King cannot resist returning the soft kiss. It’s been years since he was last kissed, to have adult desires in this body is not a walk in the park and finally, someone knows and understands what he is and likes it.

Caspian pulls away and turns his head, fingers hovering over his lips. He’s shocked himself. “Forgive me, Your...King...Ed.”

“It’s ok.” Ed replies softly “On the eve of battle it’s hardest to be alone.” His hand finds Caspian’s once more.

“We should return. Prepare, strategise. Give inspiring speeches or something” He’s scared, but he initiated it so he can’t be too scared, Edmund decides.

“It’s still day, we do not march until nightfall, we are not needed until supper when we’ll go over the plans once more.” Edmund tells him, desire building within him “Either one of us may die tonight Caspian and yet, yet, I haven’t felt this alive for so long.”

“Because of me?” His voice was shy, the accent a touch stronger, but he’s smiling. Edmund smiles back until their lips are touching once more.

********

Edmund stands, staring at Caspian. They’d fought and they'd walked through the night. It was now early dawn and they were all sleeping in short shifts to allow them to recharge for the coming battle or whatever would happened in the day to come. Caspian and Edmund are the first of the royals to sleep. Caspian is currently preparing to sleep and Edmund’s simply staring.

He knows Caspian didn’t, couldn’t have meant those things he’d said to Peter. Caspian is threatened by Peter but certainly respects him and, before the battle, Caspian had certainly shown that he was glad he’d called at least Edmund to Narnia. But the words had still stung.

Caspian looks up at Edmund and the King of The Golden Age realises Caspian means for them to sleep together. Compliantly, Edmund slides down in his arms but says “You drew your sword on my brother, knowingly this time.”

“Good Narnians died, Edmund.”

“I know. It grieves me too. And it grieves Peter, don’t think for one second it doesn’t. We love our country and it hurts to see it in the hands of Miraz.” He can’t stop his hand from running through Caspian’s thick locks.

“You two are far too similar, I think,” Edmund tells him softly. “Peter makes mistakes, he’s the High King but he’s not perfect.”

Caspian suddenly jerks back from Edmund’s touch “I don’t want to talk about him. I don’t want to think or remember the battle. I want to forget. Make me forget.”

“How?” Edmund whispers, moving closer to the Prince again.

“You know how,” Caspian pulls Edmund to him, a lot more confident and forceful in getting what he wants than the night before, and Edmund loves it.

*************

“I know, you had it sorted.” Edmund says grimly before walking out of the chamber, head held high.

He had woken from his short slumber to find himself alone, he’d dressed and armed himself and gone looking for Caspian and instead found his absolute worst nightmare coming true.

Once alone, lost deep in the How, Edmund lets his brave face crumble and his body begins to shake as he drops to his knees.

Her voice. Her face. Even after so many years they haunted him. She’d used, abused and tortured Edmund in so many horrific ways in the time she’d held him captive though no one knew. Those were his secrets, his torments. None knew but Aslan, but where is Aslan now when Edmund needs the love and healing that only The Lion can provide?

Wracking sobs are issuing from Edmund that he cannot contain but still, Aslan does not show himself. Is he no longer worthy?

“Edmund,” That accent, that voice, could only belong to one person. Edmund cannot reply, he cannot speak, he can only sob and cry like a child. Arms enclosed him, hugging him to a firm chest in an attempt to comfort.

In the old days Lucy or Susan would hold him, sing to him or simply talk for the minutes, hours or even days through which Edmund’s hysteria, or ‘episodes’ as Peter referred to them on the rare occasion that he acknowledged the damaged part of his siblings psyche. Once, after three full weeks had passed and Edmund had still been a wreck, though now he can’t even recall the trigger of the near manic episode, Aslan had shown himself to Edmund but, really, he can’t expect The Lion to appear every time he suffers. That would be a terribly selfish thing to wish for.

Caspian has the presence of mind not to speak, not to mention her to Edmund at all. He simply holds Edmund’s smaller frame, caressing and kissing him in a not entirely platonic and completely soothing way. Slowly, very slowly Edmund’s quaking body stills and a calmness descends.

His pride is wounded over making such a display before the Prince until he meets Caspian’s eyes and sees so much compassion and care for him coupled with great concern. Outside of his family, only Aslan had ever looked at him in such a way. Perhaps, just perhaps, this means Aslan sent Edmund to Caspian for this very reason.  
But, ponders Edmund, perhaps Aslan meant for him to find Caspian for this reason also, for the other man is certainly not without his demons.

*******

Edmund’s eyes narrow angrily. How dare she? He’d suffered her fluttering eyelashes and simpering in silence but her reply as Caspian attempts to return the horn infuriates him. At least after she’s ridden off, Edmund can see that Caspian hasn’t been swayed by Susan’s outrageous flirtation, in fact he’s laughing.

“She still doesn’t know about us, I take it?” Caspian says as his chuckling ceases and he spots Edmund watching him.

“She’s never known about me,” Edmund admits softly, avoiding eye contact and feeling very glad that they’re in semidarkness because his cheeks are flushing.

There’s a pause as Caspian digests the information and asks as a clarification “That you’re a lover of men?”

“Yes,” The King confirms as Caspian walks over to him, allowing their conversation to be far more private, just in case.

“I thought you were all close,” An arm instinctively slides around Edmund’s waist, only a night or so as lovers and they’re falling into an affectionate routine. It makes Edmund smile, though only faintly because Caspian has begun a serious conversation.

“We are but still, Susan doesn’t know. She can never find out. She wouldn’t be able to understand.” Edmund says, looking up into Caspian’s warm eyes. “Back home, in England, its illegal.”

“I assume you are not suggesting that confiding in Susan is illegal,” Caspian replies grimly

“No,” Edmund’s reply “Men get sent to jail, disowned by their families and ostracised by the public.”

“That’s shameful! They do all this simply because men are in love?” Caspian is outraged on Edmund’s behalf, which makes the butterflies return to Edmund’s stomach. No one has ever been outraged on his behalf before and it feels good.

“It’s tradition and religion and, well it’s awful I agree but there I’m just a schoolboy and a ‘nancy’ schoolboy at that so my opinion means little.” Edmund shrugs, acting as though it’s nothing despite the fact that it makes life tough for him at school.

“But Susan is a Queen of Narnia, surely she would understand?”

Edmund shakes his head “Peter barely tolerates it so long as it’s out of his sight and never mentioned in his presence, only Lucy is truly alright with it. She says if Aslan loves me the way I am it means this is how I’m meant to be.”

“Lucy is a very wise girl,” Caspian’s face begins to break into a smile once more.

“Woman,” Edmund reminds him.

“I believe that Aslan sent you to me,” Caspian pulls Edmund closer to him “I believe that what I’m feeling, what we’ve shared, it’s been so amazing that it can only have been sent from The Lion. You keep me going. I would not have gotten this far without you Edmund.”

Edmund wraps his arms around Caspian’s neck and kisses him deeply. There’s no time and he knows this, they must prepare for Peter’s duel, especially since Edmund is his second. These arguments don’t seem to be reaching his lips though, which won’t stop kissing the Prince.

It’s eventually Caspian who comes to his senses first and pulls his lips away from Edmund. “Thank you, Ed.”

“For what?” Edmund murmurs, a touch dazed from the intensity of their kisses.

“Should it still come to battle, I will not just be fighting for my throne, but fighting for you. You’ve given me even more of a reason to fight. I want to make sure that we are victorious even more now so that tonight I can truly take you to my bed,”

For a moment all weariness and tension is forgotten and Edmund’s reply is playful and flirtatious “What makes you think I’ll be the one who is ‘taken’?”

Caspian leans in close, pressing his lips to the shell of Edmund’s ear “Because simply seeing you in this Narnian royal armour makes me want to tear it all off you and take you right now against this wall.”

Edmund cannot hold back the soft moan that issues from his lips. When his eyes flutter open, he whispers “Well, we best make sure we win,”

He takes a few deep breaths to compose himself before turning back around to lead the way back to the preparing army.

“Wait,”

Obeying the command he stops and turns back to face Caspian. He looks at him questioningly in silence.

“If this is to be our last conversation, if one or both of us do not make it through this day,”

“Don’t Caspian,” Edmund can’t even consider the idea that they might lose because that idea is too terrifying and would affect his fighting abilities.

“I just need you to know you are the first friend, and lover, I’ve ever had and-and you’ve given me some of the happiest moments of my life,” Caspian says sincerely, hands cupping Edmund’s face.

“And you have given me the same,” Edmund’s reply is very, very soft. “But we must go now because our people need us and if we stay here with you saying such things to me, we’ll not leave, we’ll be too lost in one another.”

“I suppose our duties come before the pleasures of the flesh.” Caspian agrees begrudgingly, releasing Edmund after a final, soft kiss.

“Unfortunately,”

*********

After the battle, celebrations on the Dancing Lawn were immediately announced and the Royals were quickly rushed into a makeshift tent for them to change into hastily provided clothes. Beautiful Narnian clothes that Edmund had missed so much whilst in England, though Trufflehunter and a Nymph who hadn’t yet been introduced to Edmund had kept apologising to the Majesties for not finding a better quality of clothing. 

“Nonsense,” Peter and Edmund had insisted whilst their sisters had gushed over the offered dresses. The mood had lightened now, since Lucy’s cordial had healed all their wounded soldiers to full health. All would dance tonight and, thankfully, the casualties hadn’t been as many as first thought. There was indeed more to celebrate than regret now that they’d won the throne for Caspian.

The others were already changed and  joining the festivities out on the lawn when Edmund finally removes his armour. His movements are slow and pained now that he’s alone. So many today were more grievously wounded than he, he hadn’t wanted to make a fuss in front of the men.

On one side there’s heavy bruising under which there’s at least two broken ribs from having had a shield slammed into him with great strength. When he fights, he has realised, he forgets he’s a boy now with a boy’s more delicate body, he does not have a sturdy adult male’s body and he’s less able to withstand blows.

The back of his left thigh is covered in dried blood where a stray arrow hit him in the melee. By some luck or chance it hadn't been a good hit and had not gone very deep at all. He’d ripped it out without thought and carried on but now, as adrenaline fades, the pain is intensifying. There are many more minor injuries over his body as he carefully washes himself at the bowl of spring water someone had provided. He winces and whimpers a fair bit in a way that makes him glad that he’s alone.

“Let me,” Caspian insists, taking the cloth. So Edmund isn’t as alone as he thought, the older King sighs and allows Caspian to do as he wishes. Caspian washes him gently but firmly, removing the blood belonging to both Edmund and the enemy with ease.

“You were magnificent today,” Caspian tells Edmund, kissing his bare shoulder. “I’ve never seen anyone fight with two blades with such ease.”

“It took me a very long time to learn,” Edmund replies modestly.

“Evidently you still haven’t learnt when you should ask for aid,” Caspian counters, still standing behind him though Edmund can hear the concern enough to know the expression being used.

“It’s nothing compared to what some of the others have sustained today,”

“That logic is flawed, my lover, your injuries are not lessened by another man or beast’s. Do not make yourself into a martyr.” He procures Lucy’s cordial from somewhere, holding it out in front so that Edmund can see it.

“You’ve stolen from my sister,” Edmund observes with an amused smile.

“I did not steal. I simply temporarily borrowed it without her knowledge,” Caspian shrugs, opening the small flask.

“What a wonderful way to begin your reign,” Edmund says lightly, turning carefully to face his lover.

“I think Aslan would forgive me,” Caspian dabs a little of the cordial on his finger and runs it Edmund’s lower lip lightly, giving the King no choice but to accept it. Edmund’s tongue darts out to lick his lip and taste the familiar liquid. In but a moment later, he’s fully healed.

“Why are you so concerned?” Edmund asks the soon to be crowned king with the pretence of shyness. He just wants to know if the things Caspian said to him before battle were meant or if they were born of fear. A scared man will say many things a safe man will not, he knows this from long ago.

“It grieves me to see you in pain Edmund,” Caspian confesses before smirking. “And, besides, how can I have my wicked way with you tonight if you are wounded?”

Edmund’s arms wrap around Caspian’s neck as he leans his semi-naked body against Caspian’s finely dressed one. He breathes in, taking in the scent that’s quickly becoming familiar and dear to him.

“Our reward for surviving,” He murmurs, kissing Caspian’s throat and nuzzling affection.

“Mmm, but they’ll be looking for us soon enough.” Caspian murmurs with little conviction since his hands are caressing Edmund’s newly healed body.

“Eh, let them look,”

******

“We’ll go.” Peter announces and Edmund feels sick to his stomach

“Wer-We will?” Edmund doesn’t want to leave yet, he’d known he couldn’t stay here for years like last time but maybe a couple of weeks at least, surely? Why would Aslan allow for him to meet, and fall in love with, Caspian only to rip them apart so soon?

“Come on,” Peter continues, oblivious to the devastation Edmund’s feeling. “Times up.” He gives Caspian his sword, but Edmund can barely hear the words as he’s so hurt by the prospect of leaving.

“I’m afraid that’s just it,” Susan’s voice grounds Edmund enough to get him listening again. “We’re not coming back.” A second kick to the stomach for Edmund. He makes the smallest of sounds as he registers the pain, Lucy’s hand immediately slips into his.

Everyone looks to Aslan except Edmund who looks to Caspian, who’s staring straight back with equal despair in his eyes. Edmund mouths three words to Caspian; in case they never see one another again.

‘I love you’. It’s not quite true but at least Edmund feels it could have been real love if they’d only had more time together. The new king looks back sadly, just a devastated as he feels.

When Edmund looks around he notices, Susan too is looking to Caspian and clearly reading the sorrow as directed to her instead of her brother. Deluded by her own beauty, Edmund decides. Caspian has spent time with her, talking and such, but Edmund knows Caspian has no desires for his sister. The disinterest with a touch of alarm he’s seen in Caspian eyes during moments when Susan’s flirting had gone too far could not be faked.

“We’re not?” Lucy’s voice is faint; her grip tightens on Edmund’s hand.

“You two are,” Peter clarifies, allowing both of his youngest siblings to feel a moment’s relief. “At least, I think he means you too.”

Edmund’s relief is short-lived as he remembers that time works differently, when they return Caspian may be long dead.

“But why? Did they do something wrong?”

Edmund looks to Aslan, desperation and questions in his heart. Will he ever see Caspian again? Looking into The Lion’s eyes, though, it’s hard for Edmund to feel anything but peace. He trusts Aslan and knows that The Lion would not allow him to suffer needlessly. He has faith.

“Quite the opposite, Dear One, but all things have their time.” All things. Edmund takes this as a response to his own silent questions too. He thinks he understands that now, perhaps, is not his and Caspian’s time, but next time it might be. It doesn’t make leaving now hurt any less, however, and Edmund looks down as he tries to quash the spark of resentment he’s beginning to feel towards Aslan, over the way he’s ruling and deciding their lives for them.

Aslan’s response relaxes Lucy enough to let go of Edmund’s hand.

As Aslan and Peter continue to speak, Edmund rationalizes with himself. He reminds himself that Aslan would only ever do things for the best. He also reminds himself that such resentment was a trait of the old Edmund from before their time in Narnia, an Edmund he never wishes to be ever again.

Following Peter’s lead they approach the Narnians who they, and Caspian, have bonded with the most. Edmund stands before Trufflehunter and Reepichep and bows his head very somberly to the noble beasts.

Edmund turns on his heels sharply as he hears his eldest sister say suddenly “I’m glad I came back,”

“I wish we had more time together,” Edmund watches Caspian’s face, he’s using the words he said to Edmund in bed this morning, referring to the fact that now he was king they rarely had time alone. He may be playing along with what everyone else has assumed is a budding romance, to assure his people as Edmund had told him he should but he doesn’t mean it, Edmund’s sure. That's why he specifically repeated those words.

Though it is likely, and he has to concede even to himself, that Caspian likely means it in a friend's way. His sister is a good person even if she was currently barking up the wrong tree. He cannot blame her even if it does irritate him.

“We’d have never have worked anyway,” Very true, Edmund mentally agrees. After all she's not male or called Edmund.

“Why not?” Caspian asks so convincingly even Edmund almost believes him, were he not King he’d make a fine actor for sure.

“I am thirteen hundred years older than you,” Edmund can’t help rolling his eyes at that before he shares a smirk with Caspian over Susan’s shoulder for a brief pause. Then Susan begins to walk away and Edmund’s relieved that she’s leaving it at that with no displays of her famous wildly inappropriate passion or charm like the ones that very nearly caused international incidents all those years ago during their reign. So many wars were almost fought over Queen Susan the Gentle.

Suddenly she turns and grabs Caspian, kissing him and Edmund’s entire being is filled with rage. How dare she? The crowd coos appreciatively and Edmund has to clench his fists, which are shaking, and bite his tongue to prevent a scene. His only reassurance is that Caspian doesn’t truly respond, doesn’t touch her. He only hugs her afterwards.

“I’m sure when I’m older I’ll understand,” Lucy murmurs softly, deliberately echoing the patronising phrase women say to her, not knowing that she is older and certainly does understand. While she’s speaking Caspian looks back to Edmund with an apology in his eyes. Edmund nods gravely, still so very angry with his sister.

“I’m not sure I even want to understand,” Edmund says to Lucy, somehow making himself sound jovial despite his inner rage and turmoil. He watches Susan rejoin them and then looks back at Caspian.

What hurts him most is that he knows if he’d been the one to kiss Caspian then the crowd would not have cooed, they would have likely been outraged. A king is expected to wed a pretty girl of royal blood to create alliances and heirs, not become the lover of a legendary king of old.

They form a line and begin to walk out of Narnia, Edmund only looks back once because he fears he’ll not move and refuse to leave otherwise. He forces himself to walk, wondering whether he’ll see Caspian again or if when he returns he’ll only be able to visit his grave.

***********

Edmund can’t even bring himself to embrace Susan when they all exchange hugs before they take their final trains, one to the girls’ boarding school and the other to the boys’.

Susan, of course, has no idea why.

“Ed, whatever’s the matter?” She asks, shaking her head with confusion. She takes a step forward and Edmund takes a step back, hands raised to keep her away. His three siblings exchange concerned expressions over their sibling, only Lucy understands.

“Goodbye Susan. Enjoy your new term.” Edmund says evenly with a civil nod of the head in her direction before hugging Lucy once more, kissing her cheek and walking away.

*********

When undressing in his dormitory later that night. Edmund freezes as he unbuttons his shirt. Looking down, he smiles to him as he sees he’s wearing a pendant. In Narnia, the night before they’d left, Caspian had given it to him and he’d honestly believed he’d been stripped of it when his schoolboy attire had been returned to him.

The pendant and chain are made of the finest white gold from Archenland, apparently Caspian’s father had had trade agreements with them until Miraz had taken power. The pendant itself was intricate, here in England one would assume it to be Celtic but Edmund had known it instantly to be Dwarven in origin. No doubt the dwarves that had passed as short humans amongst the Telmarines found jobs in various Smith’s in order to make a living. In the centre of the design sits a small, real Narnian diamond.

Edmund smiles as he realises he can at least carry a piece of his beloved Narnia and his lover with him always, even if he doesn’t get to see Caspian again.

“Thank you, Aslan,” He whispers under his breath.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to send me writing or pairing prompts head on over to blu-eyed-fic on tumblr


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